12 June, 1944
Lockheed P-38J-15-LO Lightning (s/n 42-104177 code F5-?)
Mauron "Evriguet" (56)
(contributors : Philippe Dufrasne, association "Archives Aéro 56")
Lockheed P-38J Lightning - Photo USAF (public domain)
Pilot :
Captain John A. MacKAY - 474th FG, 428th FS (escaped)
THE STORY
(source : The "Geyser" Gang - The 428th Fighter Squadron in World War II [John Truman Steinko] via association "Archives Aéro 56")
The mission of June 12,1944
The first mission took off at 6:49 a.m.
The mission order arrived early enough and there was no major trouble before takeoff, despite the early departure. For the first time in a long time, well after D-Day, flying conditions at Warmwell were excellent. With Major HEDLUND taking the lead, the 428th flew over the island of Jersey to bomb a railway line between St Méen and Ploërmel, further southwest of the landing beaches. Once again, the squadron flew alone ; the 429th and 430th Squadrons had separate objectives in the vicinity. Feelings of sadness mixed with optimism were evident in the pilots' conversations as 15 of the 16 aircraft returned. Captain MacKAY, a veteran of the North African and Sicilian campaigns, holder of the DFC, the Oak Leaf Clusters, and the Air Medal, with more medals than many officers in the group, was missing. His aircraft caught fire, probably hit by its own bomb blast, just after Captain MacKAY had dropped his 1,000-pound bomb for a direct hit on the MAURON railway line.
The very popular leader of the "Blue Section" climbed with his P38 to 3,500 feet, dropped his canopy, then called "Good bye, Mates !" to his Squadron mates and bailed out. He fell and ended up in a sparse patch of trees 2.5 miles east of MAURON. His aircraft crashed nearby. Due to superb weather and hearing that Captain MacKAY had done a good job in making a successful jump, those who witnessed the incident returned with the certainty that "Mac" had reached the ground without injury.
John MacKAY recalls :
"As far as I can remember, the day's mission was to follow a railway line that ran north to south in Brittany. The towns of Ploërmel and Mauron were shown on the map I had, and there was a small airfield to the east of the railway. I remember asking the Squadron Leader which of us would be in the section closest to the airfield. We hadn't seen any significant number of German aircrafts in the areas we operated in for six days after D-Day. I was rather hopeful that this airfield might offer us more than just its interest.
We took off from Warmwell a little before 7:00 a.m. and although there wasn't much to do during the Channel crossing, I was interested in Captain McKITTRICK who was leading the second group of my section. I urged him to fly below me as he was above the sun and it was difficult to see beyond it whenever I looked in that direction because the sun was in my eyes. After several attempts and breaking radio silence to try to communicate with him, I finally gave up and concentrated on navigating as we approached the target sector.
We reached the vicinity of the target and all was quiet, no Germans around and no Flak. I put our flight into attack position and we started bombing the railway. Then, along the railway, I thought we had bombs with time fuses, but I was not so lucky. The fuses were instantaneous and the bombs fell right below me, so close I would not have made a difference. Leaving the target, the aircraft banked to the right leaving a trail of smoke on the starboard side. Someone reported that I was on fire and I remember saying I could see it. I gained a little altitude and glanced towards the air base to see if there was any activity but all was quiet. I tried to dive down to put out the fire, but there was little chance from this angle. Flames entered the cockpit, and I decided it was time for Mama MacKAY's little guy, John, and his aircraft to go their separate ways. I hoisted myself into the cockpit, slipped onto my back, removed the straps, and stepped off the edge. I must have been above 7,000 feet and had plenty of time to freefall.
This fall became a little more difficult when the "D" ring came out of its pocket and started flapping around. Trying to catch it took up all my attention and considering the ground was coming up towards me at full speed, believe me, when I finally managed to grab it and pull it, it seemed like I hit the ground in the next second. I had time to move away from a tree but in doing so, instead of landing quietly on soft ground, I landed on rocky ground.
The aircraft (a P-38J - serial number 42-104177), crashed not far from me and with the help of a French farmer in whose field I was landing, I dragged my parachute and Mae-West to the wreckage and threw them into the fire. Then I tried to talk to the farmer for a few minutes but I didn't know French and he didn't know English. I thought it was a waste of time and that I had better take the road or I might end up in a prison camp. So after considering the different directions I could go, I took the East option, assuming the Germans would think I would go North or West. Going South seemed out of the question. It was about 200 miles to Spain and it didn't seem like a good idea. I spent the next few hours walking east, crossing the railway line I had bombed. Around noon, the morning's events came flooding back to me. I was still going relatively fast when I hit the ground, and I wasn't going very well. My back was beginning to hurt from the shock it had received, and my right ankle, which I had twisted in the action, was beginning to give me a limp. Things weren't necessarily getting better.
I found a small orchard that was located on the right side of a path too narrow for cars or trucks. I leaned against the wall surrounding the orchard and lit a cigarette. It was time to weigh the pros and cons and plan the best course of action. I was not in good enough shape to travel much. My ankle was hurting and my back was not much better. While I was thinking, I heard voices and suddenly I saw a woman coming towards me on the path with a bunch of kids in a trailer. Apparently, school was out. What a strange situation! At that moment, all I was trying to imagine was what might happen if things went wrong, the children might get hurt. But that was not the case, the teacher contacted the farmer in the orchard I was standing in and he came to get me.
The farmer was a veteran of the First World War and he took me to a farmhouse, more like a tiny house, and hid me in the attic for the time being. He gave me some bread and vegetable soup. I felt better. With the help of my translation card from my escape kit and while trying to guess what he was saying, we managed to understand each other. I was to wait here for a teacher who spoke English and at the same time not leave the attic. The fewer people who saw me, the better. In the morning of that same day, the teacher arrived. His English was anything but excellent, but it was better than sign language. He said that he would contact the resistance and that with the snapshots I had, he should be able to provide me with papers that should allow me to pass the controls of most German patrols.
During this time, I had to stay where I was, which was good because my ankle and back were still a little more painful. Later that evening, the farmer and his wife came into the attic. We smoked some of my cigarettes and they rubbed some ointment on my back. It worked wonders. This was the first day of my two-month expedition to France. On Wednesday, the professor arrived with John's papers and a guidebook, along with three bicycles. Seven or eight miles later, they arrived at the Château de La Morlaine, inhabited by the Count, his wife Anne, their five children, and some servants. John stayed in the Château for about two weeks. He was then ready to leave again. He was afraid that the Germans would find him. He didn't want to see the family punished or killed because of him. John and a few paratroopers arrived at the farm around midnight on the third day. Tired and dirty, they chose to sleep on the upper floor of the barn. They had barely fallen asleep when everything happened.
Someone in the resistance had "sold" them to the Germans. They sent a contingent of soldiers to surround the barn before opening fire with heavy machine guns and small arms fire. They discovered that they were not completely surrounded by the Germans upon breaking out of the trap. For the next few hours, all was confusion as the men stayed just out of range of the Germans. They finally found an agent who told them he had been informed that they were completely surrounded. The next day, they decided to take a break. Shortly after midnight, they crossed a paved road that was supposed to anchor one of the boundaries of the encirclement the Germans had set up. They crossed some meadows and finally reached the relative safety of some hills. Undisturbed by the Germans, the next two days were spent rounding up the escaped paratroopers. A French nurse and a doctor from the neighboring village took care of the wounded. With no immediate plans and little to do, they took the opportunity to rest. They learned of the Saint-Lo breakthrough and that there was an element of an armored division in a town called Vannes. They eventually spoke with the general commanding the 4th Armored Division. They gave him all the information they had.
John was placed on a transport still in his civilian clothes consisting of brown slacks, a light sports jacket, a shirt, and his GI boots. John ended up at Third Army Headquarters where he met a Colonel with whom he served in the United States. The Colonel had him wait under a tent. Some 1st Lieutenants entered shortly afterward and were enthusiastic about John and the outfit he was dressed in. John could not convince them that he was an American and soon found himself being escorted to the prison when they passed a jeep carrying a General who turned out to be General George S. PATTON. PATTON stopped his jeep and demanded to know what was going on. Giving the General a quick look, John found himself under the war tent. He reported what he knew about the German forces in the region. General PATTON, satisfied, had him brought back to the 428th Fighter Squadron in a liaison aircraft. The bombing and strafing results of this 40th mission were excellent. In addition to hitting the railway line at various points, the 428th destroyed a bridge north of Ploërmel. Major HEDLUNF's Red Squadron sustained damage to a locomotive following its strafing. Captain DOYLE's Yellow Flight disabled a caboose, and the Blue and Green Squadrons set fire to about fifteen vehicles carrying coal. Thus, the 428th proved once again that if the weather gave it an opportunity, no target was safe from the Group's bullets and bombs."
His fellow officers had little time to seriously consider Captain MacKAY's disappearance. Exactly three hours after the first landing, the pilots took to the air again for another railway destruction mission. The target was a single track running southwest of Nogent towards the outskirts of Le Mans. Once again, the bombing results were good thanks to CAVU (ceiling and visibility unlimited) weather and the excellent navigation of Major HEDLUND. Strafing was carried out in the bombing area and along the route on isolated groups of freight cars and small power stations. Lt. "Bobo" HANSON led Yellow Flight on this mission No. 41, and as expected, the young man did a first-rate job....
August 9th was marked by two important events, the most sensational being the completely unexpected return to the squadron of Captain MacKAY who had been missing in action since he jumped over the Brest Peninsula on June 12th. No news had been received on the fate of the popular officer since that date, therefore this sudden reappearance came as a pleasant surprise. He had landed safely, fought side by side with French paratroopers and FFI and finally returned to join the American front lines.
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